


The Box

by onemillionbranches



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Art, BOXES, Love Confessions, M/M, Mystery, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemillionbranches/pseuds/onemillionbranches
Summary: Enjolras took a deep breath and closed his eyes before opening the lid.He didn't know what he was expecting, really, with Grantaire it could be anything from sex toys to poetry but this, he definitely wasn't surprised by.In which Enjolras opens a box Grantaire had kept secret for a long time, to reveal (not so surprising) revelations.





	

The box, for as long as Enjolras could remember, was kept under their bed. When they had first moved in together into the studio apartment, balancing boxes of clothing and books and bits and pieces of their separate lives combined into one, Grantaire had refused to let him see what was inside the box. 

Enjolras didn't push it. He understood the importance of mutual trust in relationships and personal spaces were of utmost importance, after all, Grantaire didn't intrude on him when he was having his personal time.

And so the box remained, undisturbed as far as Enjolras was concerned, tucked securely under their bed, never questioned. 

Which was why when Enjolras first took the box out from its resting place, he was more than surprise to find out that it had indeed been used or open, and frequently at that. 

He blew away the thin veil of dust coating the lid of the box, a lid that was barely able to contain the contents that threatened to spill over. 

Enjolras took a deep breath and closed his eyes before removing the lid. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, really, with Grantaire it could be anything from sex toys to poetry but  _this,_ he definitely wasn't surprised by. 

At first look, the box seemed to be filled overwhelmingly with loose leaflets of sketches and pencil doodles on coffee napkins. 

He fished through the contents one-by-one, laying each piece of paper out beside him as he went through the stack. There were tiny sketches of plants, courtesy of Jehan's poetic ramblings probably, rough at the edges so one could tell how hard R was laughing whilst doodling. 

There were bigger leaflets of landscapes, easy colour pencil scribblings of vague landmarks in Paris, mostly abandoned halfway.

Enjolras fished through an entire moleskin sketchbook worth of beautifully realistic animal drawings, of deer and lions and ravens and wolves, detailed pen work against brilliant splashes of watercolour. His fingers traced gently over the date engraved at the bottom of each page. 

_"We are way too old for this," Enjolras had groaned, a hand already shielding his face from the offensive sun. "Not to mention it's hot as fuck, Grantaire, what are we doing at the zoo like a bunch of 5 year olds?"_

“Y _ou said I could choose wherever I wanted to go on my birthday," Grantaire had replied with a pout that he knew all too well is capable of wrecking Enjolras._

“ _I wasn't under the impression I was dating an elementary schooler,"_

_The pout intensified, and now Grantaire was reaching out to pull Enjolras closer by the waist and Enjolras’s vision was starting to grow hazy either from the sun or Grantaire, he couldn't tell._

_"Alright fine, one more enclosure then we're heading back," he relented, and was rewarded with a light peck on the lips and a brilliant smile from Grantaire as he tugged Enjolras away._

It _wasn't the last enclosure, but by then Enjolras was too caught up in making out behind the petting zoo to even mind._

There was more detailed work - acrylics of the Musain, painted with so much detail even the charred spots on the ceiling courtesy of the fire Bahorel had “accidentally” set one Christmas were evident. 

And their friends, Enjolras smiled fondly at each portrait, were drawn with such loving consideration it felt almost intrusive to gaze upon. 

There were stacks upon stacks of portraits, of casual moments during Amis meetings and more defined pencil work that showed off Grantaire’s skill level. There were pictures of Courfeyrac laughing, head thrown carelessly back, curly hair flaying around him like a halo; there were pictures of Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta stacked haphazardly onto of each other, serenity and love clear as day in their eyes; there were pictures of Bahorel, purple-black bruises ringing his eyes, grinning toothlessly up with sweat dripping from his forehead. 

It was incredible, the way Grantaire captured moments and the people he loved in his artwork with so much delicacy and affection.

It was of no surprise of course, that the majority of the art was of Enjolras.

There seemed to be an entire series of Enjolras as an angry lion (with Combeferre and Courfeyrac inexplicably as a moth and peacock respectively), drawn entirely on napkins from the Corinthe bar. But more prominently, there were sketches of Enjolras as a Greek god or some other kind of mystical figure that made him out more beautiful than any mortal man could ever be. 

Enjolras knew that he is physically attractive by societal standards, but under Grantaire’s loving brushwork, he became someone so beautiful he wasn't even sure it was him entirely. 

He blushed fervently as he leaved through the next stack and prayed this box hadn't been discovered by anyone else.

_Frankly, Enjolras had never pegged himself as having a dirty talk kink until he started sleeping with Grantaire, who was loud and vocal with a fervent passion._

B _ut as passionate as he was during sex, Grantaire always seemed to slip into himself afterwards, quiet and meditative and a thousand miles away in his own mind as if he had something to say but didn't know how._

_It was after the second time they had sex, when Enjolras was lazing in bed under the morning sun, body still humming pleasantly from his orgasm, that he realized Grantaire had been staring at him with that same faraway look._

_He rolled over into R's lap, placing a gentle kiss on his belly before asking. "Penny for your thoughts?"_

_Grantaire bit nervously on his lips before replying, hands massaging circles into Enjolras’s hair. "I want to draw you,"_

_Enjolras leaned into Grantaire’s touch and tried his best to stifled a moan as R worked his hands masterfully._

_"You draw me all the time, Grantaire" Enjolras quipped, sighing blissfully._

_"Not like this. Never when you're like this,"_

_"What, naked?"_

_Grantaire shook his head. "No - I mean yes but, that's not what I meant. I meant li-like how you are now, relaxed, vulnerable. More human I guess."_

_Enjolras stared up at those misty blue eyes, glazed over from concentration. He didn't know what to say, but thankfully his silence prompted more explanation from Grantaire._

_"It's just - when we're with the world you're Enjolras, you know? You're the fearless leader, brilliant orator, the menace of society and I always get to capture you in those moments when you're passionately ranting off about something or someone but never like this. Never like how you were just now, completely relaxed and stretched out against the sun and in moments like that I really want to paint you because I tend to paint things that I love but - oh"_

_Grantaire stopped his rant then abruptly, covering his mouth firmly with his hand as if to keep the words from spilling out._

_"I didn't mean to say it like that, I mean I meant it but I don't want to say anything to you that forces you to say it back so you don't have to say it because I know it's hard for you to say it so -"_

_"Do it." Enjolras said firmly, sitting upright to face Grantaire._

_"W-what?"_

_"Paint me, draw me, anything you want. I’ll be your model for as long as you want me to," and Enjolras prayed Grantaire understood the underlying message behind those words, understood that they meant so much more than saying 'I love you' ever could._

_He saw realization dawn upon Grantaire, saw pure unadulterated happiness flicker in those beautiful eyes and leaned forward to press a longing kiss onto Grantaire’s lips._

I _t wasn't until a full day later before Grantaire managed to pull himself away from Enjolras and being to draw him naked._

He was almost nearing the end now; the contents of the box having been emptied out into the stacks of paper that surrounded Enjolras in a blissful circle of art and love. 

It was everyone Grantaire loved, seen through the tinted lenses of his eyes that made everyone more perfect than they actually are. Everyone, but himself it seemed. 

A lone self-portrait laid at the bottom of the box, the edges of the paper slightly torn as if Grantaire himself had been moments away from destroying the artwork. 

The portrait was a close up of Grantaire’s face, half sheltered by his hands so only his eyes and the loose curl of his hair could have been seen. It was completely black and white, save for the red background as if he wanted the focus of the image to be on anything but the portrait itself. 

Enjolras sighed and laid the final work out on the grass as instructed, fishing the note from his back pocket. 

S _tep 5: Look again in the box, Apollo, there's one more you blind bat._

Enjolras rolled his eyes but reached dutifully into the box, and sure enough, fished out a folded red heart that had "OPEN ME" shakily written on it. 

He did as instructed. 

_Step 6: Stand up and look at everything around you. Look at the life we've made together, the friends, the memories, the ups and the downs along the way. You've always wanted to know what's in the box, well this is it, Enj. It's our lives, it's my life in pictures, drawn pretty poorly most of the time (stop arguing with me, I’m allow to have my opinions), but it's me anyways. And it was one hell of a ride, wasn’t it? Sure, we never did get around to the cats and children and growing old part, but hey, at least we’ll never have to negotiate through gross old people sex or settle into dull domesticated routines. You're probably tearing now, aren't you? Well stop crying because this is written in pencil and pencil smudges and the next step's really important._

_Step 7: Pack everything back into the box and never open it again. (Or only open it when you think about me, but I don't want you to think about me too often so let's compromise here and say you can open it a maximum of 3 times a year, ok?)_

_Step 8: Move on, and in a totally non-hallmark card way of saying, live your life the way you’ve always envisioned it to be. Things may be a little different (or a lot different, who knows) but I’m watching you always (in a totally non-creepy, benevolent way of course) and I want you to be happy, even if that happiness can longer include me._

_Step 8.5: (Ok not really a step, but I wanted to keep the theme going here.)_

_I love you_. _And the night you said it back, those words ignited a great unendurable belongingness in me, like matches in a forest fire. And I burned so long and so quiet you must have wondered if I loved you back._

_I did, I did, I do._

_Try not to forget me, okay?_

Enjolras will always do, as he is instructed.

**Author's Note:**

> SO I wrote this kind of as an experiment to see if I could pull off something as heavy as major character death as somewhat of a surprise (which was why the lack of tags because I really DIDN'T know what to tag without giving the ending away) and I really hope I succeeded so do tell me in the comments if you saw that ending coming! 
> 
> ALSO I recently made a Les Mis tumblr that you can find [here](https://the-wild-grandr.tumblr.com/) where you can shout at me bUT it's fairly new so I apologise for the lack of posts and general messiness which will be sorted out in time to come! 
> 
> The final lines Grantaire recites are actually stolen from the Annelyse Gelman poem, The Pillowcase, which I'm sure many of you have seen but if you haven't you should [here](http://www.culturalweekly.com/annelyse-gelman-three-poems/) because it's beautiFUL and I wish I had written it so badly. 
> 
> As usual, comment and kudos away and thank you guys for reading!
> 
> HI UPDATE: So this fic is now tagged and to be completely honest here I am slightly disheartened that the effort I had put into trying to make this fic as friendly as possible didn't really work out, so here's an apology if the experience of reading this wasn't good, I tried :-(


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